


Going for a Ride

by Inzannatea (Zanna23)



Series: Phracking Inzane (PFF Series) [12]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Bicycles, F/M, Face-Riding, Oral Sex, Phrack Fucking Friday, Tour de France, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29230554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanna23/pseuds/Inzannatea
Summary: Phryne and Jack have been together for a few years and are currently living in Paris. PFF because PFF.My 50th work!Special thanks to a-wonderingmind for the beta read
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Series: Phracking Inzane (PFF Series) [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/884283
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46
Collections: Smutuary 2021





	Going for a Ride

  
It was unusually warm for February. The brisk cold of the pre-dawn had slowly burned off as a brilliant sun rose far to the south. The city was fully awake now. When he left in the early morning, he had only to share the streets with delivery vans and intermittent drunks mistaking street kerbs for chaise lounges. It had been a good ride. Perfect weather for it. The early chill motivated him to move faster, but even the heat of the day wasn’t stifling.

Certainly not like it was back home. Back home it was summertime. Home. He tried to remember how long it had been since he’d been home—or rather back to Melbourne. She didn’t like being there on her birthday, so they’d been gone at least before her birthday the year before last. Overall, he missed it less than he thought he would. If, as Pliny the Elder observed, “home is where the heart is,” then Melbourne wasn’t really his home after all. Home was wherever she was. For now, home was Paris.

He also didn’t miss his job as much as he thought he would. He still solved mysteries and helped people, but when it came down to it, he gladly sacrificed his position to keep more good men on the force. She’d convinced him that her money was their money now, especially since he was a partner in the business, and that it would be selfish to let his pride get in the way of those who legitimately needed to be on the city payroll.

On the horizon, he spotted his final landmark. The Arc de Triomphe. Nearly there. And good thing, too. All of his muscles were reaching their limit. He wasn’t as young as he used to be. A long soak in the large bathtub she’d been so insistent they find when looking for a flat would be just the ticket.

He wasn’t sure how long they were staying, but last fall he connected with Oppy and started training, just in case they were going to be here this coming summer. It had always been a dream to ride the Tour de France. Whether he participated or not, training for it was certainly helping him stay in step with her.

Oppy rode with him to Meaux this morning but peeled off at Ménilmontant on the return trip. As a working athlete—even a great one—Oppy couldn’t quite afford the luxurious accommodations found in Chaillot. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to have the opportunity to ride with Oppy, so he tried to make the most of it while he could.

He steered his pushbike to the back of their building. As a resident he was certainly allowed to use the main entrance, but he needed to put the bicycle in storage and preferred to use the staff entry whenever he’d had a particularly strenuous and dusty ride. He passed the building concierge in the service lift entrance.

“Bonjour, monsieur! How was your bicycle ride—ce ma—this morning?”

“Bonjour, Léo. Très bien. Has mademoiselle… uh… rung for… le petit… repas? No. That’s not the right… uh… breakfast?”

Léo smiled sympathetically at the butchered French and carried on in his own Frenglish, “Non monsieur. I have not heard from Madame, but I can bring it up in a very small minutes if it pleases.”

“Oui merci,” he gave Léo a genuine smile as he felt his own stomach growling.

The flat was on the top two floors of the building and was, to his mind, ridiculously large—especially for just the two of them. But it did have a fantastic tub and it had amazing views. He wasn’t sure what time she’d come back to the flat last night, only that she was lightly snoring next to him when he woke before dawn. He’d stayed in last night in deference to his plan to ride this morning, but she’d gone out with some of the women who had taken her in after… well, after.

As the concierge indicated, the flat was quiet when he entered. He found her sprawled across the entire bed once he made it to the boudoir. Soft steady breathing was the only sound. He leaned over the bed and planted a kiss on her temple.

She stirred, wrinkling her nose and creasing the space between her closed eyes. “Nnnn… Jack you reek. Go bathe!” she demanded without opening her eyes.

Jack laughed at that and started stripping off his bicycling gear, depositing it in the bin she had insisted he use for the especially foul-smelling laundry. “I don’t want my delicate lingerie tainted by your odiferous athletic garb,” she had insisted the very day he had first gone for a long ride on the pushbike she gifted him for his birthday.

“Time to get up, Miss Fisher,” he walked naked into the en suite, “Breakfast will be arriving soon.”

He smiled at the groan she emitted as he closed the door and began to run the bath. He was just settling into the second bath—the first had been just to get clean—the one he laced with Epsom salts when she opened the door to the en suite and backed in carrying a tray laden with croissants, jam, butter, and a coffee service. She set it on the sink counter and picked up a cup and the coffee pot.

“Coffee?”

“I think I’ll wait, but I’d kill for a croissant,” he looked up at her with hunger that she usually only saw when he was particularly amorous causing her breath to catch. She righted herself quickly, pouring the coffee for herself and picking up a pastry.

“No need to resort to manslaughter. Butter and jam?”

He nodded. She prepared a small plate and handed it to him.

When she came back to the side of the bathtub with her coffee cup, the plate was completely empty, and Jack was chewing rapturously with his eyes closed.

“Good?” she smirked at him as he swallowed the last of it.

“Delicious. The French definitely know their pastry.”

Phryne nodded in agreement grinning, “Indeed. It’s a good thing you’ve taken up bicycling as fond of it as you are. Speaking of which, how is Oppy?”

“He’s thinking of heading back to Melbourne.”

“No! Surely he’s going to ride in the Tour this summer?”

Jack shrugged, “He doesn’t have the money.”

“We can give him the money!” Phryne protested, “He’s the top cyclist in Australia!”

Jack shook his head, “I already offered to fund him, but he said he misses home and his wife and kids. Can’t fault him for that.”

“No. No. I can’t. But Jack… what about you? Oppy was the best chance to lead an Australian team. If he’s not competing, how will you be able to get into the race?”

Jack’s smile at her was one of pure and genuine love. _What did I ever do to deserve such a woman?_ “Phryne, I appreciate your support of my boyhood dream, but I’m not going to enter.”

“But your dream…” she protested.

“Has shifted,” he brought his hand to her thigh and began to knead, “I’m living a better dream. A dream where I get to spend my days and my nights with the most beautiful, most intelligent, most loving woman in the world. Besides, I’ve gotten too old for the Tour.”

“Nonsense! I’ve never seen you more fit! You’ve been riding for hours every day.”

“And I feel every mile. The Tour is a young man’s game. I am enjoying the long rides, but I’d rather just leave it at that. Besides, I need to keep up the exercise to keep in step with you.”

Phryne returned his smile of adoration, “Jaa-ck. We set the pace of our dance together.”

He leaned forward and kissed her knee, “Beautiful,” he kissed it again, “Intelligent,” and again, “Loving. I don’t know how I got so lucky. Perhaps you could come riding with me one day?”

“Mmm. Jack,” her loving look was taking on a decidedly naughty glaze the more he kissed her leg and kneaded her thigh, “I can think of something else I’d like to ride.”

Her eyes drifted from his to his lips and then further south to his cock. It had been growing in interest since she sat on the edge of the bathtub, and with her sultry declaration, it spang to life, bobbing above the waterline.

“Is that so, Miss Fisher?” his voice had lowered to a rumble, “What do you have in mind?”

“Lie back.”

Jack did what he was told, keeping his head above the rim, but dropping a little into the tub. Phryne stood, pulled off her negligee, and placed her cup on the tray. She sidled over to the end of the tub where Jack was resting his neck and leaned down to kiss him soundly.

He thrust his tongue into her mouth humming with hungry delight.

She pulled away sucking on his tongue firmly as she did, “It seems like you still have an appetite.”

Jack’s smile was pure wickedness, “I could go for something hot and wet and sweet,” he acknowledged.

“I have just the thing,” she turned around and then backed up to the edge of the tub.

Jack helped her straddle his head with her legs resting securely on the enameled iron edges. She reached her arms back to brace herself, keeping her ass out of the water. This move brought her swollen cunt directly in line with Jack’s mouth.

“Yes,” he growled, his hot breath tickling her pubic thatch, “This is exactly what I’m craving.”

His tongue got to her pearl first, swirling firmly. It was quickly followed by lips latching and sucking.

“Oh fuck. Yes!” Phryne called out as he alternated between sucking kisses and swirling tongue.

She should be used to it after all this time, but she was still overwhelmed by how perfect his lips and tongue were for this every time he devoured her quim. Overwhelmed—and enthralled by how much he obviously loved to do this. His involuntary baritone moaning in epicurean ecstasy sent vibrations to her core, pushing her closer to the edge. His habit of making similar sounds when they ate a delicious meal had dampened her undergarments more than a few times.

He loved to watch her when she was moving above him. Loved that he knew exactly how to make her hips buck. He latched onto her thighs with his strong arms, knowing that the rhythm he was building was about to make her writhe in exquisite agony. It was amazing to him that though he knew what was coming, each time was new and glorious to behold.

She cried out with release. Her cunt fluttered against his mouth as she came. He continued to lap her folds as he released her legs from his grip but gently guided her to sit up straight so she wouldn’t fall backwards into the tub. Phryne pulled herself away from his mouth, sliding backwards to bring her legs all the way into the tub. She was able to bring her knees to either side of Jack and then lowered herself onto his jealously bouncing cock.

Jack’s muscles were still taut with the exertion of the morning. Reclining in a warm bath with an even warmer Phryne Fisher sheathing him was definitely loosening them. He closed his eyes reveling in the sinew stretch and she began to rock very gently back and forth. The tub water slapped and sloshed waves against the enameled sides as she ground against his sex, never uncoupling their bodies.

His release was slow and complete. Every nerve of his body seemed to be caught up in the waves. Waves of sensation which slapped and sloshed against every muscle in his body taking with it all the tension it had been holding. Jack felt her tense as the waves of his pleasure started to ebb. She still rocked against his softening cock until he felt her inner walls pulsing around him. He caught her against his chest as her own waves of release abated. They laid there for a few minutes, each trying to muster the strength to move.

It was Phryne who finally spoke, “Now that was a wonderful ride.”


End file.
